Learning Capoeira

So, likely a weird commentary this week for a few reasons: One, not sure what I’m supposed to be commenting on. Two, been enjoying some episodes of a certain television program that reminded me of class lately. More on that at the end.

I wanted to comment on the documentary we watched last week, Impact of Trekking in Nepal. As mentioned above, I’m not sure if I’m meant to be commenting on this, but decided to anyway. I found the film to be very interesting and enlightening, and it sort of made me want to trek through Nepal. I know that probably wasn’t the desired effect of the film. It wasn’t a tourism video. Even so, it just seemed kind of nice. But there are (several) things there I would not have liked to partake in. For instance, I found the inclusion of sexual tourism within the tourism industry of Nepal to be fairly alarming. I’m happy that the filmmaker did not choose to focus on it. It would have been easy to focus on the sexual parts of a story, as far too many filmmakers do. Sexual tourism has always been something that makes me uneasy, but I’ve never seen female “customers” portrayed before. And from what the film implied, it’s not uncommon. This just blew me away. Maybe I’m closed-minded. I felt so bad for that young man who was the guide, saying that “soon he would be too old for the tourism business.” At twenty! Sad enough that he will be unemployed at such a young age, but my sympathy grows when I factor in that part of his trade is sex. It’s like hearing a twenty-something prostitute claim that soon she’ll be “too old for this” and be forced into retirement. It just makes me sad. I have a hard time wrapping my head around these sorts of things sometimes.

The reading: Learning Capoeira. I’m really enjoying this book so far, though I admit it’s been about a month since I read these chapters. I got some free time near the beginning of the semester  and did most of my reading then, because I knew I would be swamped by this point in the semester. Caporira seems like an interesting and exciting sport, and reminds me instantly of the break-dancing popularized in American cities and by television and movies. Are there video of this we could see? While Downey does a great job describing it, I feel this is one instance in which words just can’t do a thing justice. Bringing competition and martial-arts into the mix makes it extremely exciting. I imagine that this would be exceptionally fun to participate in, provided the people you’re plating with don’t take the game too far (as Downey mentioned in the text).

Is the term “Mestre” (seen in the title of chapter 3 but used well before it) an Africanization of the word “Mister”? The etymology of the term interests me. It reminds me of the term “Massa,” used by slaves in the American south, derived from “Master.” Racially insensitive I know, I’m just curious if the word came from the same place. If so, it’s interesting that Mestre, through it’s link with this popular sport Capoeira, has retained a positive meaning through the years.

I like the reference to “robot capoeira” on page 28. To me the fact that the Mestre’s discourage simply learning the moves exactly or robotically is what makes this an art, rather than just a sport. It’s both. The fact that the are not expected to duplicate the existing moves directly but rather add their own flair, twists, and fluidity to it makes it artful, in much the same way that the velvet painting you showed us last class aren’t considered art because they are often reproduced so mechanically. It’s the flair and fluidity of it that makes in an art form. Capoeira, like with painting, can first be learned by mimicking others and learning the moves, but in the end you must inject some of yourself into it before you are considered “good.”

And, as promised above, a weird bit from television. I’ve recently fallen quite in love with an HBO show called “The Ricky Gervais Show,” which literally just animates Gervais’s podcasts from years back while he talks with Karl Pilkington. Pilkington is, famously, considered an idiot. He stars in a show literally called An Idiot Abroad in which Gervais sends him to remote locations around the world just to see how stupid his musings on them will be. His thoughts on Papa New Guinea (whom he calls the “Papa People”) are just wrong on so many levels. So many levels. And that is the extent of that musing.

I find that the more I read Greg Downey’s Learning Capoeira the more I enjoy it. At first I’ll admit I didn’t know how he was going to fill an entire book with one sport/art, but as I read on (and especially in this current group of readings) I’ve come to realize that the book doubles as a text on Capoeira  and as a exploration of Brazilian life through the lens of Capoeira. I felt this way especially on page 118 when Downey talks about the three archetypes of the Brazillian social drama: the Malandro, the caixas, and the renouncer. Although there are many different answers to the question of “who would the three archetypes of our social drama be, I don’t see anyone coming up with quite this answer. If I had to state who I thought they were for our society, I would chose: the Criminal, the Citizen, and the Law (represented by a man). But that’s just me. Still, the passage in the book raised the question in my mind, and in my opinion that’s what good anthropology should do: to make us ask questions about our own culture through the study of other cultures. Further differences can be seen in the change of malice and malicia, described on page 123. In one culture the word means cunning and smart, where as here it in synonymous with evil. It’s opposite in Brazilian culture is said to be “naïveté,” where in ours the opposite would be “good willed.” Do you think this is representative of our differing cultural and societal values? That while Brazilian’s are encouraged to be cunning and deception, we’re taught to tow the line and believe what’s told to us? Or am I reading too much into a simple shift in verbage?

Despite the differences in ideologies, things learned in these chapters make me surprised that Capoeira hasn’t been Americanized and brought to our shores in greater abundance. Talk about the relaxation of the ginga and the body as a whole on the top of page 133 made me think that this type of sport / art / exercise could easily be adopted by the yoga crowd of our culture, but maybe even appeal to an even wider base because of it’s violent roots and competitive nature. Then again, these elements would likely to be some of the first things to go in the Americanization, along with the Roda and the musical influence. Sometimes I feel that it’s not possible to get anything truly, really different here because everything has to go through the “strainer” of the American (and Canadian) multi-media system. But Capoeira seems to practice moderation  in terms of actually working out, such as when Downey says “a hard waist is too rigid to respond.” This seems to indicate a preference for flexibility over raw athleticism, as the rest of the sport supports. Again, I think this is a great aspect of the sport. Too many sports in our culture focus completely of strength and not enough on ability (I was always good at sinking baskets, but am also very short. Basketball was a cruel mistress to me).

One thing I wasn’t clear on was how the sport worked at all. The roda doesn’t seem very big, and there’s nowhere to hide in it. The explanation on 139 that you “only hit certain areas” does a lot to help me understand that. Realistically, a kick anywhere when in that stance could send you flying. But I can see the cunning in this sport. The strategy. It reminds me most of chess, wherein you are the chess piece. Opening yourself as a way of making the opponent open (145) is very much a chess move, and using an attackers own strength against him is very Tai Chi (141). I feel bad that I can only think of Capoeira in relation to how it reminds me of other sports, because it does seem wholly unique. I deserves a better understanding than I have the ability to give it without actually seeing it first hand.

If we’re being honest with each other, I have to say that I enjoyed the Conclusion to Greg Downey’s Learning Capoeira more than any other section. I found that his reflection on the anthropological process he went through in writing this ethnography on Capoeira was a much needed element throughout the book, and something I didn’t quite realize I was missing until I was confronted with it. I like how on page 203 he describes how his original intentions on what to study about Capoeira changed after arriving: “I went to Brazil intending to study how different movement styles reflected social identity and shaped political views. Like most anthropologists, I planned to split my time between participating and observing.” He continues to say that he quickly learned after that he could not observe at all without first participating fully. I’ve found this trait in many ethnographies I’ve enjoyed… this idea of the expedition starting as purely scientific and then the anthropologist becomes taken in by the culture he’s studying. It adds a personal touch to the narrative of the ethnography I find very appealing as a storyteller. There was also a point on page 204 where he talks about his “apprenticeship” in Capoeira. This reminded me of one of my favourite ethnographies In Sorcery’s Shadow by Paul Stoller. Again with Stoller’s work we had that same feeling, of the anthropologist being taken into the culture he studied, in that case sorcery.

One thing I did not enjoy about all the readings this week was all the talk of “whitening.” While I understand the concept and even respect the intent behind it (to keep a piece of their cultural identity pure) the terminology itself bothers me. It gets my back up a little I guess. But in writing this I find an interesting reaction. I recall a similar conversation going on years ago at one of my sister’s figure skating performances. There was an African American girl there who chose to do her set (or whatever it’s called) to a very different style of music and skating than the other girls (one that reflected her own culture). She was actually a very good skater, but I heard many people around me commenting on how they felt it was inappropriate. I didn’t like that either. Now that I think of it, though they didn’t use the words “blackening” or anything like that, it wouldn’t be much of a stretch. From their point of view it would be a fairly articulate explanation, I imagine. Though their response sickened me at the time, I still didn’t quite know how that young girl might have felt. But feeling that tug of anger at the word “whitening” makes me aware that she might have felt that way too. And isn’t that what an ethnography is supposed to do? Put us in the shoes of another culture or person? Though I’m grateful for the experience, I gather from the writing that this reaction wasn’t exactly what Downey had in mind.

Page 192 yielded some insights. The picture of the girl (I assume it’s a girl, it’s from behind) holding a crate with her head. We’ve all seen that image or one like it. I think my earliest encounter with it was the young girl carrying a water jug on her head from the end of Disney’s The Jungle Book. Until seeing the picture I couldn’t quite grasp why Capoeira would have evolved as it did… why use the head? There’s such potential for damaging yourself as much as your opponent. Headbutts aren’t even allowed in the UFC for lords sake, and they let in just about anything. But the photo (and it’s caption) drove the point home that these people have grown up in a culture were using your head for such simple things and carrying is normal. Makes sense then that it would be incorporated into their fighting style. I get it now.

The removal of shame from page 192 was enlightening. The way the teacher would make the students sing only the first syllables of the words to weed out those who were too stiff or shameful is interesting, and I imagine very effective. Capoeira seems like a disciple of life rather than a sport the more I read of it.